


You Are Only Considered 'Good' In Your Actions

by virgotrash



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego Hargreeves POV, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Family Drama, Gen, Klaus Hargreeves Deserves Better, Protective Diego Hargreeves, Reggie Fuck Ass Hargreeves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-13 08:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18027872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgotrash/pseuds/virgotrash
Summary: Klaus exposes his (secret?) past with mausoleums to the rest of the Hargreeves. Diego fumes. We love a passionate and protective brother![Tumblr] sipping-on-stray-chlorine sent: I'm a fanfic request blog at @oh-quelle-surprise (leaving the url here in case I'm accidentally sending it from the wrong account) and I noticed your post so I'm here for support. Could you please write about a possible scene where Diego finds out about Reggie locking Klaus in the mausoleum? (supposing that Klaus never told anyone ever) Thank you, love 💙





	You Are Only Considered 'Good' In Your Actions

There weren’t many things that could make Diego’s blood boil hotter than lava, and he’s been through enough as a crime-fighting vigilante suspended from the police academy. He had his fair share of putting up with despicable criminals, the undeservedly corrupt rich, and just your average Joe abusing and misusing someone’s trust. So you would think Diego’s skin was thicker than most so he could get through the job without having a fit and wanting something worse than prison to these god-awful humans.  
  
But this was too close to home. Too familiar territory. This one brought him physical pain.  
  
“You were _what?_ ” he asked with no feeling left behind so his voice could show exactly how pissed off he was about to be.  
  
Klaus, the jokester of the family, the trickster, the one who could always make Mom laugh without even trying—he shrugged as if this news wasn’t news at all, and it wasn’t to him, but Diego couldn’t keep himself from clutching his fists in a rage he almost couldn’t contain.  
  
“Uh, yeah. When we were about four or five, Dad used to lock me up in the mausoleum a few blocks away when everyone was asleep. It was part of my training, he said, whatever that meant.” Klaus rolled his eyes, trying to make light of the situation, but Diego didn’t buy it.  
  
He cracked his knuckles, ready to punch someone so hard his knuckles would bleed. “I fucking hate that bastard. I can’t believe he fucking did that—but I _do_ believe he fucking did that. It sounds so like him, that heartless son of a bitch,” Diego ranted, his blood pumping and sending energy to the rest of his body. His legs started to tremble, so he began pacing through the room.  
  
Allison shook her head, her eyes trained on Klaus to search for a sign of fear or regret, but Klaus was too far gone. It was so long ago, but it did the damage it was supposed to. Klaus’s face was blank as he stared at Diego, his heart no longer fazed by his own suffering. Spending those endless nights at the mausoleum had broken him, but only now it was clear to the rest of them.  
  
“Diego, will you stop pacing?” Luther said.  
  
“No, no I won’t. Did you just hear Klaus? Our dad left him at a mausoleum for hours when we were kids and none of us knew. Reggie Fuck Ass Hargreeves did so much damage to this family and we weren’t allowed to talk about it until now, when it’s too late and his ashes are already gone with the wind.”  
  
What Diego wouldn’t give to bring back his old man and start swinging. His mind wandered back to see if he could remember any signs, if he had caught Klaus in a depressive mood when they were younger but didn’t ask about it. There must have been so many times Klaus was asking for help, but Diego never picked up on it. They were too young to understand. They were just kids.  
  
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. Most of the hate was aimed towards their father, but he wouldn’t be a good brother if he didn’t place some blame on himself. He remembered one particular night he went to go get a glass of water while everyone was asleep. Mom was there, of course, so she could help him fill up his cup. Carefully, he walked through the hallway with his water, tiptoeing past his sibling’s rooms with their doors wide open. He could see them sleeping peacefully in their beds, but he did remember not being able to see Klaus.  
  
At one point in the night, Diego had walked closer to Klaus’s room to take a peek, just in case his brother was under the covers and he just couldn’t make out the body, but there was no one in the room. Klaus’s blankets were strewn across his bed like his sleep had been disturbed by a knock on the door, or someone calling his name to wake him up. At the time, Diego thought it was strange, but the next morning, he went to check if he was dreaming it all and found Klaus snuggled in bed.  
  
Diego didn’t understand Klaus’s swollen eyes on some mornings, or how dark the circles under it were starting to get, or how often he tended to sleep during the days, and their Dad even allowed it.  
  
The words were harsh in Diego’s mind, but he knew he had never been a good brother to Klaus before, not until recently, and he regretted it. After all the secrets were starting to unravel, the way his siblings reacted to each other and drifted apart was starting to make sense. He always used to think that he had it worse when it came to their father because of how he would insist Diego’s weakness was his stutter, how he would never offer to help him get rid of it and addressing it negatively in front of the others, which would worsen it. It didn’t matter how adept he was getting at throwing knives or how long he could hold his breath after each day he practiced—his stutter was the worst thing about him and it was something he sometimes couldn’t control.  
  
But Klaus was being tormented both physically and mentally. How many times had Klaus complained about the amount and the type of people he could see through the veil? What they would scream at him, how they would haunt him at all hours of the day? None of the others seemed all that concerned about it, claiming it was just the territory that came with that creepy powers of his, and turned away. This was what pissed Diego off the most—their nonchalance. Klaus didn’t deserve any of them.  
  
Diego walked up to Klaus after the group dispersed for the night, his hand on his shoulder and giving it a good squeeze. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.  
  
Klaus nodded, a confused but happy look on his face. “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”  
  
“Do you want me to take you driving anywhere? We can go to the waffle house around the corner.”  
  
Klaus’s eyes lit up. “Hey, yeah, I heard that place had ube pancakes. They’re supposed to be really purple in person, and not too sweet, but oh, so soft and tender and it just melts in your mouth. Can we go there, Diego, please?”  
  
“Yeah. Of course.”  
  
Klaus ran towards the door, light on his feet, whistling all the way to the car. At that point, Diego promised himself never to minimize someone’s strength, even if they didn’t present it outwardly. As far as he knew, with what Klaus had to endure and how he was forced to maneuver it as a kid, especially with his powers, he was the strongest of them all.


End file.
